Second Chances
by Kuchiro
Summary: A daughter's anxiety about passing a certain test gives way to the reappearance of a long dead soul, who finds is not too late for love.
1. The River

Second Chances 

A/N – First Shamanic Princess fic, but not first fic ever. I'm obsessed w/ anime, especially Yu Yu Hakusho, Rurouni Kenshin, and Inuyasha. My friend got the entire Shamanic Princess series on DVD, and told me to watch it. So I did. I loved everything but the pairing. I think the fact that I watched episodes nine through twelve (Graham part) before one through eight had something to do with it (my first impression of Kagetsu was a pansy pretty boy and childhood infatuation of Tiara's). To be honest, I've nothing against those who _like_ the Tiara/Kagetsu pairing. I'm just always going to prefer the romances-that-will-never-be (unless there's a sequel series of Shamanic Princess where Kagetsu becomes an evil psychopathic killer and Graham comes back- and we all know how likely THAT is). *sigh* And so I can't dump Kagetsu without feeling evil. Oh, well. I suppose I'll go with the next best thing! ^_~

Disclaimer: me no own, pesky lawyers no sue!

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Chapter 1 – **The River**

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_I was nervous._

_Mother said it was to be expected. She had been nervous, too._

_But what if I don't pass?_

_Father patted me on the head and said that if my mother could pass, then I was guaranteed. _

_Mother hit him with a pillow for that._

_Mother's partner counseled me as well. I go to her when I need to know more than simple motherly confidence in her only daughter. _

_A partner is an excellent source of assurance. _

_And yet I am still nervous. Perhaps I should listen to Mother, and stop thinking too much on it. Maybe she is right, and the butterflies in my stomach are normal._

_Or maybe I think too much on him. _

Him_ being Mother's first partner. The partner who roams the corridors of our mansion these days is not the first to do so. Another came before._

_Another died before._

_And this, I know, is the reason I am nervous._

_When my kitten fell off a high branch and broke her neck, dying instantly, I wept for so long. It has been two years since, and I still cannot bring myself to find a replacement._

_I have always been quiet. During the time others spend talking, I think. I think about Mother, and Father, and Mother's partner. I contemplate my adopted aunt and her partner. I wonder about the way things are here in the Guardian World. I fantasize other worlds. I consider others and their actions. I consider myself._

_And I have had to face some difficult truths._

_I do not fear death._

_I fear my loved ones dying._

_I have trouble keeping myself apart from others around me._

_My greatest strength and weakness is that I must feel._

_I cannot see anything as insignificant and just another life which will one day be gone._

_I find it hard to let go._

_I keep in my heart all those close to me._

_My heart does not mend easily when one who is a part of it is lost._

_Like my kitten was._

_Like Mother's partner was._

_Like my partner may be._

_And that is why I am nervous._

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 I would ask if you want me to continue, but I plan to anyway, so… that would be a waste of everyone's time. Instead, I shall tell you that I'm not telling you anything, I am evil, and to find anything out (well, everything that isn't obvious) you will have to wait and read the next chapter.

Wow, it's really late. I feel tired. Maybe I should, like, go to bed?  *too late, she dies on the floor*


	2. The Reeds

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 2 – **The Reeds  
**

"Just remember, you'll do fine. Concentrate on a life force, and don't let yourself be distracted."

"I know you can do it, sweetie."

"We'll be waiting for you out here when you finish. I can't wait to meet him. Or her."

I can't help it. I have to reward their enthusiasm with a smile. "Thank you. I'll remember." I turn, and walk silently through the tall doors behind which is the arena where my test shall take place. I am dressed in the traditional white robe of purity, the hood resting gently on my head. A few wisps of lightly orange curls twist around my face and peek out from underneath the cloth. I try to tuck them back in, but am ignored. I give up. My hair has a mind of its own. Like my mother, I have long since resigned from taming it.

The doors closing behind me sound foreboding. I cannot decide why.

As I approach the lit circle, they appear around me, the ones who shall determine if I qualify or not. One is red, another yellow, the third green. I cannot see their faces, hidden behind matching colored masks.

"Begin," a voice commands. I think it is the red one who spoke. In any case, this is not something for me to think about.

Only the task at hand.

The butterflies beat their wings in my belly, somehow scrambling the thoughts in my head. I concentrate, searching the miasmic pool of infinity for a life to call to. Moments pass, and I grow agitated. Sifting through so much life, searching for the "right" one to call on, and yet none of them stir my interest or attention. I feel the beginnings of panic at this thought. What if nothing ever comes? No, I won't let that happen… Despite how nervous I am, I really do want a partner. Badly. I want to bring him into this world and show him everything. I want to fight demons and capture rouge entities with him, like Mother does with Japolo. Like she did with…

And my train of though stops abruptly, resting once again on that lonely figure in the corner of Mother's past. I am told that he, and many others, found him hideous. I long to see him for myself, to know if it is true. Haven't I always been taught that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder? Mother was a beholder. Did she see him as ugly?

I feel my throat tighten in sorrow. How must it have felt, to be torn from your own world and thrown into another. Wearing a completely different skin, no less. One that is not of your choosing, and deformed. The pain and horror Mother described seeing on his face… I don't want to see my partner appear that way.

A tear slips down my cheek. I am afraid. I want a partner, but I suddenly wonder if it is my right to have one. What if I am horrible to him? What if I am unsatisfied with my work, my creation, and make him feel like he is less than worthy of my attentions?

More tears.

I am afraid.

Afraid of the responsibility I take upon me. Afraid of failure, in so many ways.

I feel alone, lost in the dark.

_Help me!_ I scream into the infinite blackness.

And he answers.


	3. The Hunger

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 3 – The Hunger

_Help me!_ I scream into the infinite blackness.

And he answers.

In a swirl of light in my mind, he comes forward, taking hold of my mentally flailing hands and holding on tightly. The hold on my conscious is soft, gentle, and comforting. I regain my composure, and lead the spirit to the barrier separating his world from mine. He starts to come through, only to reel back in pain

The barrier is rejecting him.

It burns us.

I am stunned. In shock. Mother told me the barrier would not hurt. Bringing the soul through would be like pulling it through a curtain of thick syrup. It should not fill us with pain.

And yet, he cannot come to me without braving the fiery wall.

I feel his resolve to follow fade, and his grip on my mind loosen.

_No! _I plead. _Please… help me…_

He hesitates, then re-news his hold, steeling for the torture to come.

A silent signal, and I pull. He charges through. In my mind, I hear us scream.

And thump is heard on the edge of my awareness.

I had not realized my eyes were closed. Now open, they see the fruits of my ordeal. The sound I had heard, like a body falling from a long way up, had been just that. My partner lays in the center of the circle, panting, weak. My own back and neck are covered with sweat. I am not sure what just happened with the barrier, or why, but momentarily I do not care. I have a partner. I am filled with a joy I cannot describe. I have brought forth a life to cherish and hold, to defend from the world as well as be shown it. My happiness is overwhelming, and I rush forward into the circle to help him stand. I want to see his face.

"It's alright," I murmur. With trembling hands I grasp the bloody and bandaged arm, slowly helping him to his feet. He stands with his back to me, breathing. He seems to recognize where he is… but that is impossible… and yet, the feeling of déjà vu emanates from him.

I become worried. What is wrong with my partner?

"Are you ok?" I ask, unsure. His head begins to turn, and I am suddenly filled with dread.

He faces me, and I instantly know why.

"Oh… no…"

My partner has long, flowing white hair. Both arms are bandaged, and through the one I am holding I feel metal. His face is half hidden by a mask. The eye on the mask is wide and open. The real eye is gently, peacefully closed.

What have I done…

I find my voice with difficulty.

"Graham…"


	4. The Razor

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

**Priestess Tokiko **- There are only six episodes? Huh. Graham's appearance must have been in an OVA or something. I just watched my friend's DVD with everything (I guess it really WAS everything!) from the series on it. In that case, I saw the OVA before the actual series! ;; Thanks for the FYI!

Chapter 4 – The Razor

What have I done…

I find my voice with difficulty.

"Graham…"

The open eye seems to shake, although from fear or shocked recognition I do not know. Maybe both. He cannot possibly miss the resemblance I bear from Mother. I see his gaze shift rapidly over my face, hair, and strong yet feminine frame. Attributes I inherited from a girl he devoted his life to. Died for.

A thousand emotions flash across his face.

"You have passed," the crimson robed figure announces, almost vaguely. As though the odd phenomenon had never occurred.

As if partners long dead reappearing was perfectly ordinary.

They leave us, disappearing in a shimmery flash.

We are alone in the tiny glowing arena.

Our breathing is the only sound.

I attempt to utter a sentence, a word, anything! But I can't. What do you say to a person who has been dead for nearly twenty years, then suddenly brought back to life? By his previous partner's daughter, no less. And fate tosses cruel dice, as I am practically Mother's replica. It is like the past repeating itself for him. What have I done…

What have I _done?_

My breath shakes, coming in gasps. The tears burn at my eyes. He looks uneasy, then apprehensive, when I drop his arm and slowly stumble back. I stare at him as I move, not finding reason or strength to look away. Coming to the center of the ring my knees buckle, and I drop. He doesn't move, returning my steady gaze with an uncertainty and sorrow that breaks me.

A bead of water trickles down my cheek, followed by an ocean of tears. I throw my face into my trembling palms. "What have I done!" my voice pleads softly. Desperately. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… how did I… I'm sorry!" My mind won't be calm, and my weeping is unrestrained. It is more sadness than horror. More regret than rage. I cry not for me.

For him… This is all my fault.

My hands fall to the ground, drained, and my sobs weaken into a quiet whisper. Yet I continue to cry. I don't think I can stop.

And yet I am shocked into doing so.

Shocked by the light touch on my chin, a beckoning pull upward. Upward to find his face. The face I had been curious to see for so long.

Not this way… I didn't want it this way… 

But there is nothing I can do.

His lips move, and an inquiry issues forth. "Not… Tiara?"

My lip trembles, but somehow his voice is soothing me. Giving me confidence enough to answer him. "No… her daughter…" I feel less and less sad, but my tension will not leave.

His fingers drop from my skin. Now he is merely kneeling before me, watching. Studying.

He has a right to judge me, the one who yanked his soul back to life.

But I do not have the right to judge him. I haven't even the right to face him.

My eyes lower to the ground.

"They're waiting for me…" I whisper. On the edge of my peripheral vision I see him slightly cock his head. _Who?_

"My mother, Tiara, and my- father." _Please do not let him ask._

But he will.

And he does.

"Your father?"

I nod, still not facing him.

"Kagetsu."

He says nothing, but he does not need to. From both of my parents, I know that this partner and my father had never been on good terms.

"You don't… have to come with me. All this is because of me. I'll… try to send you back, if you want me to. And if I can't, you don't have to stay. I won't make you be my partner if you don't… want… to… be…" I stutter the rest as his mangled hand lightly touches mine. My fingers are gathered up and lifted to him, stopping inches from his lips.

"I… stay."

And he kisses my hand.


	5. The Heart

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 5 – The Heart

With shadowed eyes I lead him from the ring, to the door, and through it. I have the brief pleasure of seeing my family's happy eyes at my appearance, before he steps into the light from behind me. Puzzlement, recognition, then shock is written across their faces. They remember him, so vividly, a blast from the past that should have stayed there. And now, I have brought salt to old wounds. I have brought destruction onto our lives.

All because of one presence.

All my fault… 

Silence reigns before I feel I must break it. I clear my throat.

"Mother… Father… this is Graham… my partner."

They stare in silence, comprehending but unsure how to react. It is like seeing a ghost.

A ghost come back to life.

Seeing as no other words will come to any of us, I carefully take my partner's hand. Silently we leave my stunned audience to wonder how this event occurred.

In my mind, I think that I shall have to do the same.

And only hope that this will work out.

Light peeks beneath my lashes, coaxing my eyes open to face the day. The remnants of my dream fade to the reality sleeping in the corner.

Graham.

I pull my bedcovers back quietly, and swing my feet to the floor without making a sound. I am not sure if he is a heavy or light sleeper. In either case, I want to let him get his rest.

I am almost out the room when his voice calls out to me softly.

"Good morning."

I stop dead in the doorway.

"I'm sorry… if I woke you up. I was trying to be quiet."

His hair rustles against the wallpaper as he nods. "You were. I was already awake."

The topic exhausted, we fall silent. Neither of us know what to say.

I am shocked, but thankful, when he breaks the deafening silence.

"You… have not told me your name, Tiara's daughter."

I swallow. "It's…Riya."

"Riya…" My name is breathy on his lips. I shiver.

I cannot escape the thought that it sounds made to be there…

"I'll… see you after breakfast," I whisper hurriedly.

Watching me run from my room, any observer would think the hounds of Hell were at my heels…

and not simply the loan, soft sound of my name being spoken by my partner…

Both of my parents have left the house early, off on their own assignments. While eating the meal they set out for me, I read the paper on the table. It depicts quite descriptively our first mission for the Guardian World. We are to leave immediately, taking only the necessities, for Earth. Standard task – blend into society until the creature is caught, then bring it back to be locked up again.

The only twist is that this particular escapee is extremely elusive, bringing the level of difficulty up somewhat. Not for beginners.

But then, my partner is not a beginner either. He has done this before, with Mother.

The thought is belittling. _I,_ not my partner, will be the one in need of experience for this.

_He_ may have to teach _me_.

I normally have a rational temperament, but now I feel a pang of resentment.

Although, as he appears behind me, ready to begin on our mission, I decide something.

Resentment may hinder us if I am foolhardy and rash, but it will be easier to deal with than the flutter in my chest.


	6. The Soul

A/N – Goodness, it would seem that I have efficiently confused all my readers as to what the pairing is! ; Let me clear that up then. This fic is a Graham/OC story, the OC being Tiara's daughter.

I'm actually surprised by my decision to do this. I normally abhor original characters being paired with characters in the show, so this is really weird for me.

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 6 – **The Soul**

"Graham, behind you!" I yell. He jumps aside, and an angry red mist rushes by him. He takes the opportunity to head in a different direction.

We have only been in our designated area for a day before finding and engaging the target.

We did not find it. It found us. A wispy sort of cloud, it is almost indistinguishable from the surrounding atmosphere. We discovered it during our first nightly patrol of the city in the most curious way. Upon reaching a turn in the road, Graham had whispered in his quiet voice that he sensed something. He then took off down the street with me following. When I caught up with him he was on a rooftop, standing in one place, his head swiveling as he searched for the being that drew his attention.

This was not unusual. When they sense us, most rouge guardian spirits hide to avoid capture.

What was unusual was how the thing reacted when I joined my partner on the rooftop. The air around Graham had suddenly glowed neon red, gathered together in a bristling cloud, spitting angry sparks. When it dove at us we leapt out of the way, although Graham needn't have bothered. The slowly growing cloud seemed focused solely on me, and through no amount of strategic twists and turns could I loose it.

The strangest thing, however, occurred when my partner attempted to attack it, and divert it to himself so I could catch my breath. If possible, the thing had grown angrier, then proceeded to chase Graham with a murderous attention. As fast as it had chased me, the speed was multiplied insanely, forcing its target, Graham, to dodge it blindly or be hit.

And so I watch, helplessly, as our target turns the tables and becomes to us what we had been to it. My breath stops as a windowsill, upon which Graham is launching off of, crumbles under the force of his foot, and he trips. The mist is on him in seconds.

"Graham!" My voice echoes in the night, and, regardless of my own safety Graham is striving to ensure, I dive at his attacker. My fear is multiplied as I lose sight of his face in the crimson mist creature. He is clawing at it, but his hands slip through it, and he cannot run without risking flying headlong into a concrete wall.

"Get _AWAY!_" I scream, filling my hand with power and blowing it with all my energy at the creature. My attack seems to break something upon making contact with the mist, and I watch with relief as the color fades to nothing, and the creature's aura leaves us, disappearing back into the darkness. I turn to Graham, to see if he is alright, and gasp. The metal side of his face is tarnished and black with heat burns, while the flesh of the other side sports rapidly darkening bruises. "Oh, Graham.." I whisper, finding nothing else to say.

His eye flickers to look at me, and he touches the metal mask with the skin and bone hand. "I will… be alright," he says, and I feel my body relax instantly in relief. "Good," I sigh, briefly closing my eyes. In doing this, I miss the surprised look he gives me.

"We had better get back," I say. He nods, and we descend to the street below. I touch my left foot to the pavement, then my right- and stumble as a stinging pain races up my leg. Graham is there in time to catch me before I hit the ground. Held gently in his embrace, I clutch the ankle from which the pain originated.

"What is wrong?" he asks.

"My leg… I think I may have cracked it on something while I was running from that mist creature… I was going so fast I don't think I noticed…"

He lets me go, and I test my weight on the foot, only to wince and pull it back off the ground. "I can't use it until it's better… I suppose I'll just fly back-" "No." I turn to him in surprise. The surprise turns to shock as he places his human arm behind my back, and uses the metal arm to sweep me off my feet. (A/N – Sorry, couldn't resist! ) "You are too exhausted to fly now. This way you do not risk suddenly falling asleep, and therefore falling out of the sky." This said, he leaps onto the nearest rooftop, his feet making light padding sounds as he races to the edge, jumps, lands on the next rooftop, and continues on.

I try to keep my eyes open, but the world, racing by me at what seems to be a blinding speed, causes my eyes to drift shut.

My head sinks.

The softly glowing night becomes an endless black.

And the last thing I remember is drifting peacefully to sleep with my head resting on Graham's shoulder.

hops up and down Ooooo, that came out so well! I loved writing the fluff at the end. This is so much fun! I should update more often! ;;


	7. Author's Note

A/N – This is in between updates. You may have noticed that the titles of all the chapters have changed. ^ ^;;  This is due to a sudden brainstorm of mine that occurred after listening to the classic song, "The Rose", and I thought, 'wow, this would fit in great!!' So, here you have the new, improved, fic-with-a-theme, "Second Chances"!! Enjoy!! ^ ^


	8. The Dream

A/N – This chapter is a turning point in my original idea for the plot. The original idea was kinda cutesy, and the fic is becoming more angst (despite its occupation as a romance), so this idea suits it better. I hope you like this chapter, and if you think it ends on a sour note,

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 7 – **The Dream**

**  
**

Sleep… Nothingness… 

_Peaceful…_

Clouds over my head… pale flowers in a waving green field… 

_Dreamland…_

_I laugh, run through the field… pick flowers, put them in my hair… make wreaths out of them… the air is so sweet…_

_A figure appears over the rise of the field… Graham…_

_For once I lack all uneasiness at his presence… I spread my arms wide, saying, "Come sit with me!" _

_He does._

_We sit in the field… the only sounds are whispering grasses and the only feeling is one of contentment and tranquility. The realm of sorrow and worry has no business here… only peace…_

_I lay back, fling my arms over my head, and watch the clouds drift by. Within their forms are shapes of people, places, animals and artistic designs. I study them._

_"Riya…" Graham says, and I am hit with the feeling of his presence becoming stronger, of him being more _there_ than before._

_"When we were being chased by that creature… and you defeated it, and it left… you seemed concerned of my injuries, and I told you I would be alright… why did you say what you did?"_

_I blink. "What I said? I said, 'good', because I was worried."_

_"About me?"_

_"Of course you." _

_He falls silent once more, and the tranquility returns, although not as tranquil as before…_

_He speaks again. "Riya…"_

_"Yes?"_

_"When you called me… brought me to life…you were crying…"_

_My breath catches. "Yes…I remember…"_

_"Why?"_

_"I…" Why? The real question is, why now? Why is he only bringing this up after weeks of opportunities?_

_"I- I was sad… because I'd brought you back…When someone dies they have the right to stay dead." I feel tears form, and the sky above me becomes blurred. _

_"You only came back for me… for my own selfish reasons… Mother had mentioned you before, and I always wondered what you looked like…"_

_"Why did you wonder?"_

_"Because…" The wetness in my eyes runs down my cheeks. "Because everyone said you were… ugly, and I wanted to know if it was true…"_

_"Why?" _

_So many 'why' s, and not enough reasons. I close my eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears._

_"Mother… Mother always said that beauty was in the eye of the beholder… and I didn't think it was fair to say someone was ugly… if they had a beautiful spirit… and I wanted to know if yours was… I'm sorry… for what I've done to you… pulling you back to a place where you suffered… I only wish I knew how to send you back…"_

_"I don't."_

_What?_

_I open my eyes in astonishment-_

_and are met by his own, the single eye and gently closed one mere inches from my face. His hands are on either side of my body, his silver hair a curtain around me…_

_My eyes widen as the distance between us closes…_

_And I feel the cool metal and softness of his lips pressed to my own…_

_Graham…_

_So warm…_

_Sweet…_

_My lashes flutter closed in bliss…_

Graham…

The kiss feels so real…

As if…

I open my eyes to the waking world…

Graham…

His lips to mine…

Oh…Graham… 

My instant reaction is to gasp, drawing his attention immediately. My shocked and amazed eyes meet his one, and lock. There is a fear in that eye, a fear of being caught at doing the unthinkable. This action, we both know, is one no partner before has ever done. He has crossed so many lines, there is no excuse. By every taboo in the Guardian World, this is forbidden.

By every taboo, he would be punished.

Quivering, he pulls away, his eye never leaving my face. My skin feels the ghosts of the breaths he breathed on my cheeks before and after the kiss. The weight of his hands, still supporting his rigid form above me, press into the mattress on either side of my shoulders, mirror images of their placement in my dream.

The dream that had been real.

Those words we had spoken…

Had he said them in the waking world, and from my dream had I answered?

The emotion in our voices, had that been real?

The tears I feel still residing on my face insist that it had.

Graham is still staring at me, and I feel an apprehension in him that is so intense, I feel he may run any second. I have to say something to calm him… something.

My lips move.

No words.

Something… 

I can't think clearly.

My thoughts are unable to stray from the tingling that dances over my mouth…

Graham…

"Graham…" I whisper…

I lift a hand to touch his face…

And he bolts, jumping out the window, racing over the rooftops, and out of sight…


	9. The Winter

A/N – I saw _X-Men2_ just a few days ago, and I am totally in love with it!! It was soooo good!! I thought the plot was excellent, as well as the lines, and how the characters played off each other, and how enough strings were left untied that a third movie is almost absolutely necessary!! Last night I had to watch the first movie again just because I had to!! *mad dancing around* I am _infatuated_ with the scene where Wolverine gives his healing ability to Rogue. I don't know if I'm alone in this, but my personal opinion is that Bobby should get another girlfriend and let Wolverine have Rogue. I've never read/seen any comics or TV shows on X-Men before the movie, so please don't eat me alive if I'm twisting things around!! ^ ^;; I just think they (Wolverine and Rogue) look cute together, and I love how Wolverine is always protecting her. ^-^

Yikes, that was quite a rant… ^ ^;; I'll get onto the fic…

Disclaimer: me no own, pesky lawyers no sue!!

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Chapter 8 – **The Winter**

~*~*~*~*~*~

The fluttering curtains and light from the rising sun are all that is left after his departure.

Graham… 

He has not returned for three days, and I am worried. I remember the fear in his eyes, and at the time I had thought he was afraid of punishment. After thinking for these three days, I realize that the punishment was furthest from his mind.

There was only one thing he had been afraid of.

Rejection.

Graham… 

Fear of the coming pain, like a tidal wave about to crash you into the sand and rip your body to shreds. Except the only thing to be shredded would have been his heart…

I stand by the window, and my eyes flicker over the rooftops for a sign, any sign, of his return. Deep down, there is a secret wish that he will not return. His reappearance would signify a question he wants answered, and I don't want him to ask it.

I don't know the answer…

In my heart, I may…

But my mind is not ready to come to that conclusion.

I sigh, and close my eyes. The wind blows my curls about my face, and they tickle my skin. It may be my imagination, but the sound the whispering air makes across my ears almost sounds like crying…

I cry with it…

GRAHAM… 

~*~

It is night. Despite my lack of a partner, I will continue with the mission I was sent to do. It is my duty to this world and the Guardian World.

It is also a way to distract myself away from thoughts that rain questions and difficult choices upon me day and night.

A light drizzle that had lasted most of the day leaves the pavement slick and shining like silver. Glancing up and down dark allyways, I must be careful. Without the spell Graham is normally there to cast and freeze time, any sort of commotion I make will bring the residents of the buildings around me to their windows. 

Treading carefully, staring at the ground and lost in my thoughts, I almost miss the sudden, menacing presence that engulfs me. My head snaps up and around, my eyes training on the creature as it speeds towards me. With each passing second its pinkish haze becomes darker, until it is an angry fuchsia. I duck, and feel it pass mere inches from my scalp, its burning heat singeing a few strands of my hair. 

I know it will come around for another pass. But when I whip around to meet it, my recently injured ankle is twisted in the wrong direction. My leg courses with pain, and I come crashing down. The mist thing is upon me instantly, burying itself in my nose, blinding my eyes, filling my throat with it's burning vapor, and I feel myself beginning to suffocate. Desperately, I fill my palms with energy, throwing my power in all directions in the hope that something will damage the creature. With a hissing sound I land a hit, and choke on the fresh air that fills the space the thing withdraws from. Gasping and clutching my throat, I breath deeply, watching as the glowing mist circles me, its glow pulsing threateningly. 

Then it vanishes.

My eyes widen, and I nearly swallow my tongue in fear. I can still sense the thing's presence, but I can no longer see it or feel where it is. 

I am utterly, sickeningly vulnerable.

From the corner of my eye I see it, and twist around on my side to face the threat- and find nothing. Then, a flash of its presence behind me, and I turn- once again, nothing. My fear intensifies when I realize that it is toying with me, waiting until my fear is great enough that it wears me down, and I am ripe for the killing. I attempt to stand up, but find it impossible with the freshly injured foot. Gritting my teeth and shutting my eyes tightly to hold in the tears, I pull myself upright and balance on the one good foot. I extend my awareness desperately for any sign of where my attacker has disappeared to.

"AHHH-mmff!!" I bite my hand to keep from crying in pain. My back suddenly feels as though it is on fire, a direct result of being hit by the creature. My hand suffers another fierce clenching of teeth as my good leg is hit. I stumble for balance, and lash out with my energy as the mist lashes out at me again. My attack makes contact, but my victory is nothing compared to the damage being inflicted upon me. A sickening smell fills the air, made even more so by the realization that it is my own burned flesh. Where Graham had only been beaten and bruised, I am being burned.

And there is nothing I can do to stop it.

If I run, it will chase me and attack me until I fall.

If I fly, it will try to suffocate me again, blinding me until I bash myself into a wall or am impaled on an iron rail spike or flagpole.

_There is no escape._

The hits increase in speed and number. My entire being feels as though it is on fire. I can't concentrate through the pain enough to fight back. I can only huddle on the rain-soaked ground, salty tears running down my cheeks as my teeth clench in a desperate attempt to keep silent. My ears fill with the sound of my own pathetic whimpering; with each burning contact the thing becomes more and more solid, until it is the equivalent of being battered by an enormous brick.

_A brick that burns with the heat of a red-hot poker._

My will snaps, and survival instinct flames to life. With no regard to the throbbing appendage, I use the injured foot to launch my broken body into the clear night sky. The moon fills the air with a cold and silent glow, watching yet another game of predator and prey occur in the form of me and my approaching attacker. 

Pointing my face in the direction I can only hope is my apartment, the ribbons billow out in my wake as I fly. The wind whistles in my ears and stings my already dry eyes, bringing forth even more tears. 

I give a cry of agony as my skull makes contact with a fiery solid object waiting invisible in my path.

My vision becomes fuchsia with the mist blanketing my head.

I choke and gasp, clawing at the suddenly yielding mist invading my nose and throat once more.

Amidst my panic, I forget to stay aloft.

My mind is almost unaware of my rapid descent as it slowly becomes dark…

They say one's life flashes before their eyes at the time of one's death… 

Heart slowing… breath ceasing…

_I hope so…_

Bright flashing light at the end of a tunnel, pain fading…

_I just want to see his face one more time…_

The sensation of being held lightly by strong arms… floating…

_And tell him…_

I see his wide and fearful eyes above me…

I'm sorry… 

My eyes fall shut, and the silent night is absolute.

~*~

*fans face* Whew, that took a while to get out. I don't know if that sounds choppy to you, but I'll be doing the 'blah, blah, go back and re-write it' thing with this too. Maybe.

Was that too predictable? Cliché? I'll bet you can guess who caught her… ^ ^;; Well, anyway, the next chapter, despite being a big step in resolving a lot of major issues, will NOT be the end. I have a few more things I want to happen before everyone gets to go home happy. ^ ^


	10. The Sun

A/N – Wow, I got some reviews saying that I made people CRY… Well, this chapter should be a bit happier, if that's any consolation. Oh, and I'd like to thank EVERYONE for reviewing. You have no idea how great it feels to read them.

On a side not, this chapter title is subject to change, since I'm not quite sure how many chapters this last brainstorm is going to take. But I promise it won't be too many. Three, four at the most.

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 9 - The Sun

I wake suddenly in the early, darkened morning.

I remember everything from before. The memories do not bombard me upon my waking; rather, they are already there to begin with, and simply become clearer and more imposing as the last visages of passive rest leave me. I continue to lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as I roll the thoughts over in my mind.

I am under no illusions as to who caught me when I fell. Only Graham would have returned me to my own room, instead of taking me to a hospital. Stretching my muscles beneath the sheets, I can feel my major burns and scrapes covered with well-wrapped bandages. They barely sting at all, indicating that he used his own healing powers to speed up my recovery. Inhaling deeply, I regret that he had not hung around long enough for me to thank him. In his current state of mental and emotional turmoil, he would not want to stay and speak to the one who caused his unease in the first place.

For this reason, I jump in shock at the shuddery breath that echoes suddenly not ten feet from my bed.

I turn my head abruptly to the side. Sitting with his back to the wall, one leg pulled up to his chest with both arms circling it, is my long lost partner. Soft white hair forming a curtain around his downwards tilted face, shoulders rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of his breathing.

He is deep and sound asleep.

Although his nearness after so many uncomfortable encounters is a little awkward, I still cannot help but smile. He put so much energy into helping me that he forgot about himself. As punishment, he is now utterly exhausted.

His body suddenly trembles slightly, followed by the shuddery breath that alerted me of his presence in the first place. My eyes turning to the window, I pull back a little of the bed sheets and feel the chilly breeze that now flutters the curtains. Carefully, I slip off the mattress and walk softly to the window. After closing it, I remove one of my blankets from the bed and tiptoe over to where he sits, still sleeping. His resting place is shrouded in shadow, bringing the temperature around him down even further. I quickly spread the blanket over him, making sure he is completely covered.

I am walking back to my own bed when his voice sounds behind me.

"You will… be cold."

I freeze, and answer without facing him.

"I have plenty of blankets. I'll be alright."

He tries to protest. "But-"

"Really, I'm fine!"

The words come out more harshly than I intend. He falls silent, and I am flinch at the sudden wave of guilt. I can't leave him thinking I hate him.

"Graham," I whisper, shoulders slumping and head bowing in defeat. "I… I didn't mean to scare you, or chase you away… I guess I was just a little surprised… I'm not mad at you. I…" I turn to face him, clutching my arms with cold hands that tremble and, suddenly, crying without restraint. I feel responsible for everything that has happened to him, even the things I could not control. I disgust myself that, after wishing he were around so I could treat him better than everyone else had, I had blown the chance Fate had given me and hurt him even more.

He still doesn't face me; I don't think he even believes me. I don't doubt that he has heard these same words before, perhaps even from my own mother, and he remembers with aching clarity the result of his devotion and caring for her.

"I could _never_ be mad at you… I could never hate you for anything…"

This is so pointless. There is nothing I can say that is any different than he has already heard… I can't blame him for not believing me… that's my own fault. He suffers so much and I only give him more pain…How could I have done this to him! My selfish wish brought him back from a death that must have been a peaceful oblivion after his life… Graham, I'm so sorry… Graham…

My knees, just like the day I first met him, give way, and I hit the cold hardwood with a thump. His head jerks up, and he looks at me with wide, apprehensive eyes at his master falling to pieces at his feet. Again.

"Please… don't hate me…" My head drops and I stare at the floor. "I just don't want you to hate me…" My pleading cuts off abruptly when Graham reaches out suddenly and grips my chin and the underside of my jaw with his right human hand. Forcing my eyes to meet his, I am almost afraid of the intensity burning in deep within the eye on the mask. When he speaks, he seems almost angry, offended by my words.

"I could not… hate you. You are kind…" My breath catches as his thumb absentmindedly moves across my cheek, wiping away a tear. "So kind, Riya."

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, feeling my throat become constricted with emotion. The weight he has lifted with his words is immense, and my tears flow onto the hand, _his_ hand, still holding my chin with fingers that radiate warmth and forgiveness. Turning my head, I press my face into his hand, whispering my thanks into his palm.

I freeze momentarily when his other hand pulls against my shoulder towards him.

Then I relax, and let myself lay gently in his embrace. Sighing, he pulls me close and runs stiff metal fingers through my hair comfortingly.

After a while my tears subside, and I am halfway asleep again when he speaks. His voice is quiet, but possesses a more prominent confidence that I find uplifting.

"I am sorry… about what I did."

I tilt my head up to look at him in confusion. "What did you do?"

He hesitates, then looks into my eyes as his warm fingers brush my lips.

"This… I am sorry."

"I'm not."

I smile briefly at his shocked expression. Then his fingers come back up to smooth their pads over my lips.

"Then… may I?"

I nod.

Hesitantly, he leans down, seeming afraid that I will suddenly scream and pull away. Closing my eyes, I tilt my face more in his direction, and am rewarded with my mouth touching the same soft lips that gave me my first kiss. Both of us are shy, unused to such intimacy, and the action lasts but a few moments. When we part, our eyes meet, and my face inflames with a scarlet blush.

Unable to match his piercing gaze, I let my eyes drop to watch my fingers play with his silver hair. I'd never really felt it before, and it slides through my hands like fine silk, with a feathered, fluffy tone that reflects his gentle nature. Despite his violent tendencies, he really is sweet, soft and timid. He feels things strongly, and acts on his emotions more often than his reasoning. There is no doubt in my mind that his feelings for me are genuine… he could not act this way if he felt anything else.

As I continue to ponder, my eyes drift closed, and I slowly rest more and more of my weight on him. I fight to stay awake, until his voice says to me, "Sleep, Riya. I do not mind." Smiling, I tuck my forehead into the curve of his neck. "Thank you Graham."

"You are welcome," he whispers, pulling up the sheet to cover my shoulders as, once again, I fall asleep resting in his warm embrace.


	11. The Seed

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 10 – The Seed

After our reconciliation, completing our task and capturing the rouge Guardian creature was simple. We both escaped with only the most minor bumps and scraps, and were granted a small period of rest back home before being given out next assignment.

That time was hardly wasted. Graham and I used it to fully get to know each other, understand each other's tendencies, likes, dislikes, and what made us both laugh.

Somehow, he could make me laugh at the slightest thing. I was never very good and telling jokes or being funny, and it was a source of great entertainment for me to be set giggling hysterically at some trivial question from Graham. He, on the other hand, usually has no idea what he has said to cause me merriment, but after a few minutes it doesn't matter. Soon we are both holding our sides and straining our faces with laughter, and when we finish we soon start again, because by then I can never remember what made me laugh in the first place.

I like hearing him laugh. It is a full, rich sound that is deep and heartfelt, with a freeness that possesses a charming, childish quality. Despite his knowledge and physical appearance, he is really barely half my age, even if the years from his previous life are added to the short time he has lived now. His personality is based on that age, and it is like being washed in a fountain of purity.

He is such a joy to be with…

"Riya?"

"Hm?" I blink, and return from my journey through oblivion.

"You are doing that again."

"Mm?… oh, sorry!"

He smiles knowingly, and nods to the vertical game board between us. "It is your move."

After studying the black and white marbles suspended on either side of the playing field, I protest, "But… you didn't make a move!" Shaking his head, he reaches out and points to one of my white marbles on the far left. "This, here. I moved it to your side." Blushing sheepishly, I mutter, "Oh. Sorry… I guess the sun has been getting to me…" This is obviously not the case, as we are sitting in the large expanse of shade provided by a giant oak tree.

Graham's brow seems to furrow, and he watches me curiously. "Is something wrong?" Shifting to sit on my side, I drop my gaze to the ground and run my fingers through the grass. "No…" I hear his clothing rustle as he moves, and I look up to meet his eyes. He is no longer there, and I jump in mild surprise when his arms encircle my shoulders from behind. Goosebumps form on my skin as his soothing voice speaks into my ear. "But something is wrong… you are distracted, Riya, forgetting things, watching the world through blank and unseeing eyes."

I am amazed at his perception. "I… Graham, it's nothing important."

When he responds, I hear the smile in his voice. "Importance doesn't matter… I don't want you to be troubled by anything. Tell me."

I am suddenly VERY glad he cannot see my face… I believe my blush has just invented a new shade of red…

"Tell me, Riya…"

Sighing, I lean back into him, resting the back of my head on his shoulder. "It's… about you, actually."

"Me?"

"Yes… I like thinking about you…" Turning my face slightly, I see his cheeks become tinged with pink.

Ha. Now we are even.

"Graham… do you mind just being a … partner, or do you want to be something else?"

Continuing to watch the landscape, he cocks he head. "Something else?"

"Like me. Human. I mean, you are but… do you ever wish you weren't a partner? That you were a complete and free being?"

"Yes."

I am momentarily taken aback by the firmness of his answer. How long ago was it that he whispered and hesitated with his every word?

"You… do? Often?"

He nods, his feather-soft hair tickling my neck. "Yes… very much. I enjoy being in your company, but…" he struggles for the right words.

"You want to be free and stand on your own two feet… not have the only thing keeping you here being my power."

The arms at my shoulders tighten, and he rests his head against mine. "Your strength has nothing to do with my wish… I trust your power to keep me in this world. I want to possess my own form that I power with my own strength. To be a separate being…"

His legs stretch out at my sides, and his body curls around me in a warm cocoon. His speech finishes in a breathy whisper at my ear.

"…a being who stays at your side of his own free will."

Moments pass, during which I stare wide-eyed at the grass waving in the slowly lengthening shadows. Both of us are silent, processing what he has just said.

Even if he were to have his freedom, he would stay with me. Not out of obligation, but by choice.

This decision, if he were to follow through with it, would be the accumulation of all that we had done together. I am still, though unfoundedly, apprehensive of feeling deserving of his affection, and more importantly, his trust. I still find it hard to believe that he would have such strong emotions towards me after all I have put him through.

It is, as my mother would say, the 'power of love'.

It is then, nestled in the arms of my protector (and love?), listening to the tree whisper it's summer song in the wind, watching my home cast shadows in the sinking sun, shivering at the warm breath brushing by my ear, that I decide.

"Mother, is it possible for a partner to change into one of us?" I ask later that night at dinner.

My mother drops her spoon in surprise, and my father looks up at me with an expression that makes me a little uncomfortable.

"Why?" he asks. His tone of voice tells me he knows whom I am talking about, despite my attempts at being vague.

"I just wanted to know. They are changed into what they are now when we bring them here, right? Is there a way for us to change them back without sending them away?"

Mother's eyes widen slightly, and her lips move, but she says nothing. The subject of Graham had always been tense for her, and now she almost acts as though he had never come back.

"Yes…" Father says slowly. "It takes a great deal of power and energy, and requires precise concentration. You would have to request permission from the Guardian to perform it." He studies me. "Riya, is there something you need to tell us?"

I glance between the two of them, who seem to be holding their breath.

"No." My eyes lower to my hands in my lap, and I fidget with my napkin the rest of the meal.

I make an excuse to leave dinner early. I can feel my parents' eyes on me, and if I hadn't left when I did, I might have screamed. After preparing a plate of food for Graham, I head for my room. Both my parents and Graham are in silent agreement that each other's presence is not something they would like to go through. Due to this, Graham skips dinner and eats in my room.

I turn the knob slowly and open the door a crack. "Graham? I brought dinner for you…" I trail off, and smile as I enter fully and close the door behind me. Graham lies sleeping on the small sofa, added to my room recently to accommodate him, in the corner. Tiptoeing to his side, I set the plate on my bedside table and kneel next to him.

I can never get over the adorable picture he makes when he is sleeping. It is the only time his eyes look normal, as they are both peacefully closed. Brushing aside a strand of hair that has fallen in his face, I fold my arms on the cushion and lay my head on them.

'How can you make me want to take care of you so much? What is it about you that makes me think I have been empty and lost up until now?' I ask him silently. Of course, he doesn't answer, but I doubt he would say anything I don't already know.

I love you.

Before leaving the room, I press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Leaving my home, I fly through the night sky, traveling to where I may seek an audience with the Guardian, and ask for permission to make Graham free.


	12. The Rose

A/N – Yea! This is the last chapter! Except for the epilogue, which I am definitely going to include.

And so I present to you, my faithful reviewers, the conclusion of "Second Chances"!

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Chapter 11 – The Rose

I would be lying if I were to say I was not nervous.

I was terrified.

Bowed down on one knee, a small figure in the long expanse of the great hall, I wait, quivering, for my answer to come.

After leaving my home I flew north, passing fields, forests and many dwellings before arriving at the Guardian's Temple. With each step I took closer to the room where my audience with the Guardian would begin, I shook more and more in fear.

'_What if my request is refused?'_

Would I go on with my plan despite the refusal, or accept that Graham would remain a lower class?

'_No, I couldn't live with that. I have to make this work, I have to!'_

"Your request is granted."

I look up, certain I have misheard. "Wh-what?"

"If you are willing to brave the difficulties of this ceremony, then you may proceed as you desire."

My heart fills with relief and exhilaration. I want to run around and shout my joy, but I withhold such childish reactions and slowly rise to a stand.

"I-but… this has never been attempted before, has it?"

"No."

I know that I should stop before I push my limits too far and risk having the permission withdrawn, but I cannot resist asking my question.

"Then why are you letting me do this? I'm so young, I have no experience, and I'll be disrupting the way things are done in the Guardian World… I just would like to know why…?"

The powerful figure regards me with burning eyes.

"You are much like Tiara. Asking questions to which you already know the answer."

I stare, not understanding. I begin to speak, but the Guardian has already closed his eyes and bowed his head, signaling that my audience is at an end. Resigned, I breathe out and turn to travel back down the hall. Despite my elation at my request being met with an affirmative, I am suddenly filled with anxiety for the task that now lies in front of me. The Guardian had explained, at the beginning of my audience, what the ceremony would entail. Father had been telling the truth when he said precise concentration and control were necessary.

'_So much could go wrong. And if I do succeed, what of my parents? Aunt Lena? What will they think of what I have done? Mother… what will _she _say?'_

So lost in my thoughts as I exit the great hallway, I jump when a soft voice echoes from the shadows.

"Why _are_ you doing this?"

Graham steps out from a darkened corner into the dim light.

"Why are you doing all this for me?"

I lick my lips, the words '_I don't know'_ on the tip of my tongue.

But if I am to bring him to my level, and truly make him an equal, I must be straight forward and honest. I can no longer run circles around a truth that has been in plain sight all along.

So I tell him.

"I love you."

The only answer I receive is stunned silence. He seems frozen.

"I'm doing this because… because I love you. And I want you to be happy… Graham… I love you."

My legs shake and I swallow harshly as he comes forward, his face stopping a mere breath from mine. The air around me has become unbearably heated and tense. It is what I know he always wanted to hear, but had never expected.

His eyes watch me, waiting on edge.

"I- I love you, Graham." I whisper.

My next breath he consumes, his kiss as intense as his emotion behind it. I allow my fingers to bury themselves in his silky hair I have come to love so well, while at the same time feel his one real arm wrap itself around my waist and pull me closer. He keeps his head tilted to the side, saving me the rough scraping of his metal mask. My heart flutters at his considerate gesture, and I thank him by deepening the kiss.

Eventually we are forced to stop and breathe, and I am reluctant to let it end. I keep myself pressed against him, and am glad that his arm continues to grip me tightly. Resting my head on his chest, I inhale deeply and become aware of, for the first time, the sweet and windswept smell of him. So many things I have never noticed before. I have only scratched the surface of who he truly is.

I want to spend the rest of my life exploring his mind and heart.

"Thank you…" he murmurs into my ear, his warm breath sending happy shivers up and down my spine.

"For..?" I prompt.

He says nothing, but presses a kiss to my temple and hugs me tightly, and I understand.

"You're welcome."

Approaching the Summoning room where the ceremony will begin, I fight the desire to break and run. I am not afraid at all for myself, but for Graham. So many things can be done wrong, each with horrifying consequences. Sensing my growing tension, Graham squeezes my hand comfortingly.

His gesture only renews my fear of hurting him.

But I can no longer go back. To do so now would be cowardice, and, more over, a betrayal to Graham, who has put enough faith in me at this point that to back down now would be a crushing blow to his spirit.

I won't do that to him. I will not be that cruel.

I have to do this for him.

For me as well. I need him.

The doors open wide before us. We enter, and stop outside the ring of light where Graham and I first met.

The giant doors close behind us, and I think again that they creak with an ominous and foreboding tone.

One by one, the tall green, red, and yellow figures appear around the ring.

Offering my hand one last squeeze, Graham leaves my side to stand center in the circle of light. He watches me with eyes devoid of fear.

He trusts me so much.

"Begin," a voice says, echoing in the surrounding blackness.

I nod. My hands come up, and clasp in the ritualistic manner of Summoning, no different from the last time I was here.

Only this time, I will bring the entirety of my partner to this world, ripping what last traces of him remain from where he began and securing him here.

Needless to say, it is going to hurt.

I close my eyes, and once again search through the miasma for a familiar thread. I find it, and travel its length with my mental eyes until it disappears into infinity. Curious, I give it a tug towards us.

Graham screams.

I jump, whipping open my eyes to see him kneeling on the floor in a fetal position while his body quivers in mental and physical pain. In my mind I pull away from his thread fearfully, shaking my head furiously. I can't do this, not if I have to make him scream.

Graham feels my withdrawal. "_No_!" he grunts, fighting to make his words coherent. "_Do it… please! Riya!_" I choke, and take a shuddering breath. Shutting my eyes tightly, I search for the thread again, and this time grab it without hesitation. The agonizing cries of pain ring in my ears, and tears flow down my cheeks. '_I'm hurting him… Graham, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'_ I pull feverishly at the thread, willing it to break. I have to make this stop… I'm going to go insane listening to him scream his voice raw. I tug harder, feeling the thread cut into my hands and make them bleed. Beneath our cries I am distantly aware of a cracking sound, but I cannot concentrate enough to wonder what it is. My real hands, still clenched in the sacred design, are wet with sweat. My skin burns with the friction of my blood beating through my veins. Graham's body thuds back and forth on the ground, rolling in torture as he moans brokenly, his throat too red and sore to make any other noise.

My mind's fingers slacken, and my hold on the thread begins to slip.

'No… I can't… I have to… Graham…' 

One last tug…

Graham screams a dry and silent scream…

The thread snaps…

A loud CRACK!

Something sharp spins by my face, putting a small cut in my cheek.

I open my eyes.

Graham has collapsed in a heap on the floor. My hands are soaked in sweat and blood.

'Graham… no, you can't be… don't… GRAHAM!' 

"Graham!" I yell, forgetting the beings present, and stumbling frantically to where he lies still and silent. "Graham…" I whisper, gently shaking his shoulder. "Graham!" I pull him over to see his face…

And gasp. His mask, his metal arm… they're gone. The crack I heard… it was his _mask…_

"Graham… wake up… please wake up… see, we did it, it's all over, you're free… you can stay here forever… Graham, please wake up…" I hunch over his prone form, watching intently. I am rewarded with a sudden, shuddery breath, and his body giving a twitch. "Riya…" he whispers, his voice nearly gone from screaming. Turning his head in my direction, he opens his eyes.

"Oh…"

My lips part in a small gasp of astonishment. He is beautiful. His eyes, now both real and open, are a stunning, icy blue. The silky hair feathers on the ground and through my fingers, catching the light like spun silver. His face, once half-hidden, proves to be softly curved with defined masculine features that present a determined and gentle air about him. His skin, covering smooth muscles that ripple under my touch, is of a darker and tanner quality than I remember. I am looking, for the first time, at Graham's real self.

And oh… he is perfect.

It is like holding an angel in my arms.

Graham lifts a weak hand to touch my cheek uncertainly. "Riya?"

I smile, looking into those depthless eyes of his. "Graham… you are beautiful."

He smiles back at me, and wraps his fingers around my neck to pull me down for a kiss.

Please stay tuned for the epilogue.


	13. Epilogue

A/N - sobs uncontrollably The fic is over! My best work yet has come to a close! I'll no longer have an excuse for not updating my other fics!

crickets

Oops, did I just say that out loud? sweatdrop Ah, well… here's the epilogue…

I claim no ownership over the Shamanic Princess characters.

Future, Riya's POV

"Just trust yourself, you'll do fine."

"We will be waiting here when you return."

My daughter, now fifteen and old enough to summon her own partner, regards me with icy blue eyes. She seems to be restraining from chewing on her lower lip, an action that would betray her nervousness.

My husband kneels down and takes her hands in his. Smiling gently, he meets her eyes with his own identical ones. "Do not think of it as searching for the answer to the test. Think of it as… as…"

"As searching for a friend," I finish for him. He looks over at me, still smiling, and nods. Standing, he hugs our daughter, then watches her turn and walk through the doors where her test will begin.

"Do you think she'll be ok?" I ask. Graham nods and wraps his arms around me comfortingly.

"I have no doubt. You found me, after all. Her heart will find what it is looking for." Pressing a kiss to the top of my head, he adds, "You worry too much."

"I do not," I argue half-heartedly. "I just hope she doesn't end up going through the same mess we did. What if she resurrects, say, Leon, Lena's old partner?"

Graham tightens his hold on me. "And if she does? She will work it out, as you did. I do not regret returning to this world, and neither, I think, would Leon. Second chances are precious gifts, and he would do well not to take it lightly." Chuckling, I pull his hand to my lips and kiss his palm. "Since when are you so philosophical?" "Since always. You have simply been too distracted…" he kisses my ear and nuzzles my neck, "… to notice."

I shiver, and nestle myself closer to him. It has been many years since the ceremony that gave him his freedom, and his personality has changed so much. Where others would describe such a change as "loosing innocence" in the face of the world, Graham kept his pure and gentle soul while merely gaining knowledge. I do not remember when I stopped trying to win against him. He knows each and every one of my buttons, and he will play me like a violin until I tie myself up with my own words.

What I love most, though, is how his passionate feelings for me have stayed simple and true. Despite outer-lying changes in him, deep inside he is still exactly the same as when I first met him.

'I love you, Graham…' 

The creaking door announces that my daughter is finished with her task. In the glow behind her I see that she is leading someone by the hand, and my heart swells with pride. She and her partner come into the light, and we have our first look at him. Long, flowing black hair is bound loosely at the base of his neck, and his large brown eyes are set in lightly tanned skin. The tattered white clothing he wears gives a glimpse to his thin but well-built frame, and smooth and lean muscles define his arms and legs. With some sun, fresh air and food, he will be a perfect partner.

"Mother… Father… this is Lucifer. My partner." Her tone is apprehensive, but full of pride in her achievement. Meanwhile, Lucifer's eyes regard us uneasily, tracing over our faces for signs of our character. He seems unsure of whether to trust these new people or not.

Suddenly, his eyes widen. Staring intently at Graham's wrist, he seems stunned and in temporary shock.

Upon his left wrist, Graham wears a metal bracelet encrusted with the blood-red jewel that had once resided on his mask as a sign of his station. The bracelet is not a symbol of defiance at the world, merely a memory Graham can take with him everywhere.

Lucifer stares at the bracelet, then slowly looks at his own lower forearm, where a thick band encircles his arm. Upon it is a blood-red jewel.

He again looks at Graham, and I know he is realizing the resemblance between this one-time partner and the girl who summoned him. He sees it in their eyes.

He watches, understanding, as Graham gives me another small hug.

My daughter waits for a reaction.

Smiling up into Lucifer's face, I give her the same answer I gave Graham all those years ago.

"You are beautiful."

And so it ends. (I can hear you all weeping in the background.) I am truly sorry to see this end, since I had such a good time writing it. Well, onto the next big adventure!

Owari


End file.
